


Seventeen

by lacepirate



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, TW: Self Harm, tw: abuse, tw: non graphic child abuse, tw: suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacepirate/pseuds/lacepirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi is an observant little child.<br/>-<br/>angsty iwaoi where Oikawa's childhood wasn't as great as everyone thinks it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> basically I was bored at school again so have some more angsty Oikawa. 
> 
> thank you so much to my lovely betaer: http://rinrinsamurai.tumblr.com/
> 
> *tw: suicide attempt & self harm*

They were three-and-a-half years old. Three-and-a-half years old when they met. Oikawa instinctively latched on to Iwaizumi and hasn’t let go since.

Iwaizumi very vaguely remembers their happy-looking family. Oikawa stumbled on his words when he introduced himself to the muddy, scratched-up mess of a child that was Hajime Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was never one to be friendly with people, and before Oikawa, his parents were worried he would never befriend anyone because every time he tried to talk, his cheeks would grow red and his stomach would churn and he would retreat to safety behind his parents’ legs. None of this ever happened when he met Oikawa, because he was never the one doing the talking. Oikawa had blabbered on and on about the sandbox he was playing in and the conversation was feeling progressively one-sided, but Iwaizumi was okay with that. Two minutes in to Oikawa’s babbling was when he mentioned aliens for the first time. He stared up at the sky with wonder clouded in his eyes at the mere thought of the extra-terrestrials somewhere in the universe. Iwaizumi was a very observant child, and still remains an observant teen, and maybe he shouldn’t have ignored the way Oikawa’s parents talked to their own flesh and blood. Maybe he should have clued in a little sooner about the way he flinched when his father came near and the way he mutely apologized for disturbing him and started to head back to his new home. Iwaizumi reached out for the boy’s hand and stopped him, glancing up at the tall man and asking if it was okay if he played for a while longer. He nodded and started back for the large truck parked in their new driveway, filled to the brim with items for a house. Oikawa was more grateful than Iwaizumi could ever understand.

 

-

 

They were six years old with scabbed knees and dirty hands when they found a volleyball for the first time. It was in Oikawa’s parent’s basement, and they knew they shouldn’t be down there, but they were only looking for something to do. Oikawa exclaimed “Let’s play with this!” before hearing a bang shut of the kitchen door. Oikawa’s shoulders visibly tensed and he heard an inhale beside him. Oikawa quickly made a ‘stay there’ look with his eyes and rushed upstairs to see who was home. Iwaizumi rushed after him, stumbling up the steps with slightly shorter legs. Iwaizumi didn’t really clue in to the raised hand that was nearing Oikawa’s face when he had perched on the last step; he only flashed a friendly smile at the elder woman in the room and asked if it was alright for Oikawa to continue playing. Oikawa’s mother simply nodded and went back to the kitchen counter to pick up the glass with amber coloured liquid inside. They ended up in Iwaizumi’s backyard with questions of “How do you play?” written on their faces. “Maybe it’s like a soccer ball?” Oikawa had offered. Iwaizumi doubted that; it was way too soft to be a soccer ball. Iwaizumi’s father had come out then, laughing slightly at the confused look on their faces before picking the tattered white ball up in his hands and throwing it to the sky over and over again, only catching it with his fingertips for a split second before it was launched back up. Oikawa’s eyes lit up like they had whenever he talked about aliens. Oikawa made grabby-hand motions and asked him how to do it. Iwaizumi looked bored as his father explained. Iwaizumi had always preferred a straightforward outlook on situations; if another person had something he wanted, he didn’t bother to ask but rather went up to the other and pushed them down until they gave it up. Oikawa was the complete opposite and maybe that’s why they worked together so well. He felt lost as his dad explained to the chestnut-haired boy in front on him until his eyes caught him throwing the ball up into the air and smacking it down with all of his force concentrated on the surface of his palm. Maybe they could work well together like this as well.

 

-

 

They were nine before they were finally old enough to try out for their elementary school’s volleyball team. Oikawa went to Iwaizumi with flushed cheeks and heavy breathing, telling him that it was tryouts today. They both sprinted towards the gymnasium. Up until they were old enough, they had been practicing aimlessly at the park or in Iwaizumi’s backyard; usually the latter because when they played at the park, people always scowled at Iwaizumi for being so rough with his best friend. Iwaizumi started to notice some more bruises on the boy after that; he just chalked it up to being too rough at practice with him and silently reminded himself to be gentler, but the bruises still remained. They had made it on to the team without so much as a hiccup; that night they went home to Iwaizumi’s parents with happy tears in their eyes as they danced around the kitchen, the smell of fresh-baked celebratory cookies filling their noses.

 

-

 

They were fifteen when Oikawa received the ‘best setter’ award. He cried. Even if he hadn’t meant to, it was damn near impossible for him to stop; and he wasn’t even the one who received the award. He was _so_ proud of his best friend. He had thought back to all the late-night tosses on weekends when they both couldn’t sleep. All of the heavily bruised, scarred, and scabbed knees that came from forgetting their kneepads when they went to practice outside and were too lazy to go back and get them; and even a few times they visited the hospital in the small fear of a broken bone but an even greater fear of postponed practices due to injury. Iwaizumi smiled for the rest of the night; even as he fell asleep with Oikawa beside him sprawled out and taking up all of the space with a long forgotten alien movie and junk food scattered around the floor. Before they fell asleep, Oikawa asked Iwaizumi if he could keep the award at his house. When Iwaizumi prodded for more information, he could have sworn he almost saw tears tickling the edge of his eyelashes and decided to stop; they had cried enough for one day. That was the first time his heart swelled with something other than pride for the setter, and he didn’t know what to call it quite yet.

 

-

 

Now they were seventeen. Seventeen and Iwaizumi was sitting at his bedside in the hospital wishing he hadn’t been so goddamn oblivious. It all made sense when the paramedic called him on his way home from school. He was even going to visit him, that’s where he was walking; to go see Oikawa. He claimed he was sick by a text message sent to him at some ungodly hour in the morning and wanted to make sure his boyfriend was okay. The doctor had asked about what could have possibly drove Oikawa to attempt suicide. He had been slowly piecing the puzzle together in his mind as he sat on an old squeaky chair, his warm fingers interlaced with Oikawa’s cold ones. His father and mother were verbally (and possibly physically) abusing the poor boy and that’s the only logical conclusion he could come to with the evidence presented. Oikawa lay limp on the hospital bed with multiple tubes stuffed down his throat and golden green bruises littering his cheekbones and jawline. Iwaizumi cringed at the sight of the boy. He had seen him bruised and battered before, but this was different. He was weak; mentally and physically, as if this wasn’t his battle to fight and finally gave up. Oikawa’s aunt had been kind enough to stop by that afternoon before going to work, but had arrived at a seemingly empty house. She went downstairs to see if anyone was home and found Oikawa hunched in the corner he was confined to with bleeding wrists and a system overloaded with medication. His pulse was faint, but it was enough to keep Iwaizumi’s weak heart beating.

 

-

 

It was seventy-two hours later that they announced to the spiker that they had Oikawa’s parents in custody, currently being questioned by the police as to why their seventeen-year-old son was locked in the basement. With a disgusted sneer on his face, the police officer quoted words from Oikawa’s parents to Iwaizumi. He felt his body shake with rage and his throat fill with bile at the pathetic excuses they gave. “He’s a good for nothing piece of shit, he deserved it.” “He’s worthless, he hasn’t done anything with his life; I wish I never gave birth to him.” Iwaizumi had to excuse himself for a moment to the washroom, where he balled up his school sweater in his hands and screamed in to the fabric before clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to not punch the mirror in front of him, filled with the reflection of his shaking form.

 

Two more hours later and Oikawa’s eyes fluttered open, albeit very weakly.

 

Iwaizumi gasped in shock and sighed in relief when he saw brown irises dart to his face and overcome a wave of what Iwaizumi could only believe to be guilt and failure. Iwaizumi explained to him the he couldn’t and wasn’t allowed to talk, due to the tubing down his throat doing the breathing for him, before he explained what happened. Iwaizumi didn’t care if the doctors didn’t like it; he crawled on the bed with Oikawa and curled in to his side with tear-filled eyes. Iwaizumi held Oikawa for dear life. He whispered into his chest about how he wouldn’t be able to live without him. One moment at three-and-a-half years old and his life had changed forever.

 

They were seventeen years old. Seventeen and Iwaizumi silently vowed to never _ever_ leave Oikawa alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always immensely appreciated!   
> thank you so much for reading!


End file.
